


heart and soul (i fell in love with you)

by puurricatsuki



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Music, Anxiety, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Music Major AU, Slow Burn, Teacher-Student Relationship, They're both students though, Underage Drinking, Viktor is a vocalist and Yuuri is a bassoonist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-10-31 06:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10893246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puurricatsuki/pseuds/puurricatsuki
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki. Bassoonist. Age 20. Very confused.He never expected to talk to Viktor Nikiforov, let alone be asked to be his voice student. But how could Yuuri ever refuse a personal request from Viktor?





	1. I. andante doloroso

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sonata for Bassoon and Piano: I. Andante doloroso](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BTe3qAvdOMw%20) by Boaz Avni 
> 
> andante: walking speed/moderately slow  
> doloroso: sorrowful

_ Last Spring _

Yuuri doesn’t know how he got to be so unlucky. 

He always panicked when juries rolled around. Having to perform in front of a panel of professors who would decide whether or not he could stay in the major was hardly enjoyable, even without an anxiety disorder. So when Yuuri’s luck ran out, the timing really could not have been worse. 

He had been struggling to finish all his elementary school observation hours for his final application to the Music Education program. Being a sophomore, this final semester determined whether he would officially be in the program or not. With all the extra hours working at a school, he barely had time to review and practice his music for juries. 

When the day of his jury rolled around, the reed for his bassoon had cracked, and as he went to grab one of the replacements, he realized he was out and had to make a brand new one. His hands grew sweaty as he struggled to craft a new reed, the time pressure and general anxiety causing him to mess up. He needed this reed to be absolutely perfect for his performance and it was anything but. If the reed had even the slightest imperfection, the entire sound of his bassoon would be off. 

Finally crafting an acceptable one, Yuuri ran over to the Rehearsal Hall for his jury, arriving an hour early--just enough time to calmly warm up and practice some of his music. Just as he was settling in, Yuuri realized he’d left his sheet music back at his dorm. He sprinted all the way across campus to get it, leaving him barely any time to even warm up for his jury, let alone practice. 

Now, walking into the hall for what is hopefully the last time that day, all Yuuri wants is some peace and quiet for five minutes, so that he can at least  _ try _ to mentally prepare himself. But of course, the universe would never be so kind to him. Of course the person to perform right before him would be Viktor Nikiforov, the popular and always perfect star of the Voice Studio. Half the Music Department adores Viktor for his talent--as well as his good looks-- and Yuuri is no exception. Victor's popularity leads to a crowded hall filled with chatter from fans trying to eavesdrop on his performance and bump into him afterwards. While Yuuri would normally leap at the opportunity to hear Viktor’s voice--smooth and rich with emotion--hearing it now just causes him to stress more, knowing that he must perform next. Every note that Viktor hits adds another bit of pressure as Yuuri realizes he has to follow  _ that _ flawless performance. Yet for all his nerves, Yuuri is still astounded at Victor’s ability to sing with both technical precision and passion. 

With no hope of calming his nerves and a room full of people who will overhear his performance, Yuuri is in the worst state for his jury. He quickly tries to put his bassoon together, sitting near the door of the hall, jitters flowing throughout his body. Yuuri typically prefers not to be within earshot of the door, as to respect those performing and to try to keep some of his sanity. But, with only five minutes left until being called into the stage room, and a room full of people, Yuuri doesn’t have much choice. Frantically, he tries to go through his warm up routines with precision and speed, hoping it will be enough. Yuuri rests his bassoon in his palms, struggling to take in deep breaths, when  _ he _ walks out of the stage room. Viktor radiates confidence as he walks out of his jury, with sharp eyes and a brilliant smile on his face. Yuuri isn’t sure whether to gaze on in awe or envy. 

He’d never had the faith in himself to walk anywhere with such an air, let alone after such an important performance. Yuuri can barely hear his name being called with all the people in the hall beginning to swarm around Viktor, applauding and practically assaulting him, each one trying to get closer. He nearly jumps out of his seat when he sees the voice professors leaving the room and his own bassoon professor waving at him, she and the other professors entering to prepare to review Yuuri’s performance. 

Yuuri scrambles to get all his things in order and walks over to the door, but before he opens it, he glances back at Viktor one last time. He doesn’t know whether he’s hoping for some sort of good luck from Viktor to rub off on him, but looking back at the man relieves some of the tension that had been holding onto his heart so tightly all day. With one last deep breath, Yuuri turns to face the door and tries to enter his jury with his head held high. He walks up the stage, feeling the professors’ eyes like knives on his back and turns around to give a small bow before he begins. 

He manages to get through his major scales painlessly, hands easily moving through each note. When Yuuri moves onto the minor scales, though, his fingers begin to freeze up, making minor mistakes. He pushes his way through the scales, feeling his resolve slowly crack. He manages to finish without any significant mistakes, but his palms sweat when he realizes he still has two pieces to perform. With a deep breath, Yuuri cues the accompanist at the piano to begin, and he waits for his entrance, begging for this performance to just be over already. He stumbles his way through the music, sounding mechanical and tense. At the beginning of his second piece, he forgets where he starts and the accompanist does her best to play it off and give him a second opportunity to come in. He eagerly takes it, but at that point he is so disappointed in himself that he is unable to convey the right emotions and the sound of the piece is thrown off. 

Shakily finishing the music, Yuuri bows to the professors once more, and has a hard time holding back tears, walking up to them to receive his score. By some miracle, he passes his jury, guaranteeing him an official spot as a Music Education major. He wants to be happy, he really does. But after such a long and tiring day, all he can feel is disappointment for having wrecked the performance despite the months of hard work and practice. 

Yuuri walks out of the stage room, head hung in shame while he reads the comments from the panel. They’re lukewarm, telling him to spend more time performing in front of others and to better memorize his pieces and scales. He tears up reading that one professor thinks he might be better off in a different major since he has such a hard time performing in front of an audience. 

The only comment that relieves some of his tension is from Celestino, Orchestra Director and Phichit’s professor for the piccolo. He wrote that Yuuri shouldn’t worry so much and that if he gets out of his head, his performance skills will drastically improve. Yuuri wishes it were that simple, and if it was, he clearly wouldn’t be in this situation. But that’s not how the world works, and so he’s stuck with his anxiety and a barely passing jury score. 

Viktor and his many fans are still just outside, which makes Yuuri feel even worse than before. Knowing that his idol and a swarm of semi-familiar faces overheard his disastrous performance makes him feel sick to his stomach. He tries to get out of there as fast as possible, but unfortunately he still has to pack up his instrument, which takes longer than usual due to the tremor in his hands. He bolts the second he is done, heading straight for his dorm so he can find some solitude. 

Yuuri heads straight for his bed, ignoring the hunger pains, being both physically and emotionally exhausted. He hopes that when he wakes up, he’ll feel better and be able to put the day behind him. But of course a nap only makes him feel groggy, and when he wakes up at eight at night he is feeling anxious and restless. He knows he won’t be able to sleep, and he doesn’t want to bother Phichit with his problems, since his roommate still has finals and his own jury to handle the next day. Yuuri decides instead to eat a quick dinner and then heads out to aimlessly wander around the campus. 

The campus is usually deathly silent at night, with just the crickets chirping and the faint rustling of a spring breeze. Yuuri often finds himself roaming the campus at night, whether it’s because he was practicing late or just feeling antsy like tonight. The movement and pristine atmosphere never fails to help him unwind. However, with finals nearing its end, the university is more alive than ever, the sounds of parties being thrown in all corners of the campus slicing through the air. 

Yuuri typically isn’t one for a wild rager, or at least not when he is completely by himself. It’s not that he has any problem with the party atmosphere, but he never truly feels comfortable at parties when he doesn’t know a single person there. And yet, this time Yuuri finds himself walking into the nearest party anyways. He isn’t sure why he chooses to walk in, but soon enough he’s downing half a cup of some unknown drink that burns its way down his throat. The bitter taste of cheap alcohol isn’t too great, but it’s not like he’s drinking it for the taste anyways. Most of the people here are celebrating and trying to make memories with friends, before they all part ways for the summer. But Yuuri isn’t here to make memories. All he wants to do is to forget that today ever happened. 

As he actually walks into the party, rather than just hang around the outskirts, his heart begins to pound. There are so many people around him, all of them belonging to a different fraternity or sorority. He’d never really fit in with that crowd, despite Phichit’s insistence that they join one of the music fraternities on campus. He’d always thought that fraternities, whether they be academic or not, consisted of those with stunning looks and poise. They’re all extremely social, and have no trouble schmoozing their way through life. Frat guys are meant to be like Viktor, not Yuuri, so he figures it’s best if he just avoids them altogether. 

Even with his nerves, Yuuri enters the party because, why not? After such a day, what does he possibly have to lose? Plus, after only one drink, he’s already slightly giddy, and he’s so done with moping and pitying himself. In the hallway he spies a long table in the main room of the house that is filled with different drinks. There are stacks upon stacks of cups, bottles of soda, five different types of vodka, beer bottles--name a drink, and it’s probably there. Whoever is throwing this party clearly has a lot to celebrate and isn’t holding back on expenses. 

Yuuri makes a beeline straight for the table, ready for total incoherency. The less he can think, the better. He pours himself a drink and glances around the room, spotting a TV set up with all sorts of party games. He contemplates going over and joining the people sitting around the TV, but he doesn’t feel quite comfortable yet. Instead, Yuuri hangs around the drink table, making small talk with those who stop by and continually refills his cup the second it’s empty. 

Halfway through his third drink in the span of half an hour, someone catches his full attention. Yuuri’s eyes are drawn to the immaculate sight of Viktor Nikiforov entering the room, casually flicking his hair out of his face and still managing to look put-together despite the slight stagger in his gait. Viktor makes his way into the room, throwing winks and grins at every person he sees and Yuuri can only stare in awe. 

When Viktor pauses at the table to grab a drink, he flashes Yuuri a heart clenching smile. Yuuri isn’t sure whether it’s that damn smile or the alcohol, but suddenly it’s a little difficult to stand. The world feels like it’s spinning and being near Viktor seems like the best idea in the world right now. Yuuri stumbles over to Viktor, spilling the man’s drink all over himself and drawing Viktor’s eyes to his face. 

Viktor stares at Yuuri for what is longer than what would be considered normal. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you going this way. Let me help you out,” Viktor says, patting down Yuuri’s shirt. Yuuri doesn’t say anything as he stares straight into Viktor’s sharp blue eyes and begins unbuttoning his shirt. If he wasn’t so drunk, he would’ve sworn that Viktor’s eyes widened a bit at the action, interest held deep inside. 

“That’s alright, it was getting hot in here anyways,” Yuuri says, now tying his shirt around his waist. He slowly looks Viktor up and down, and with a wink continues, “You seem like you’re a little hot, too.” As a musician, Yuuri’s never really thought much about colors. All he’s ever needed was the stark black and white of sheet music to color his world. But when Viktor’s face blooms at his words, he swears that he’s never seen a color quite so beautiful. 

Yuuri silently takes his hand and leads him towards the TV, basking in the fact that Viktor’s face is still flushed with surprise. It makes Yuuri himself blush, so he quickly looks away. When Yuuri had been people-watching earlier, he’d noticed that they had a karaoke machine hooked up. With Viktor at his side and the whole world feeling hazy and almost magical, there is no way that Yuuri is giving up this once in a lifetime opportunity to perform with Viktor. 

It has always been a wild dream to perform on the same stage as Viktor--being an instrumentalist, the opportunities just aren’t there. So many people rave about the days when Viktor was in choir; how they would give anything to have him join choir just one more time, so they could perform with him one last time. Viktor’s natural charm oozes into his voice, giving him an unreasonable amount of power over people. 

So Yuuri flicks through the song list, not caring which song they sing, because any song he chooses will sound beautiful coming from Viktor. His finger keeps slowly scrolling, and his eyes stay glued to the singer, unable to tear them away from Viktor’s. Those deep blue eyes draw him in and invite him to stay. He knows that to Viktor, he’s a nobody. He’s just some drunk guy that’s stringing him along at a party, and that by morning, Viktor will have moved on to someone else. But he hopes that for just this moment, he can captivate all of Viktor’s attention. Now that he has this opportunity, he is going to make sure that he makes this small moment the best of his life. 

“Sing with me?” Yuuri asks, already shoving a cheap microphone into Viktor’s hands. 

Viktor looks at the microphone and Yuuri curiously, then quickly regains his composure. “It would be my honor,” he says with a soft smile. He glances down at the screen to see what Yuuri has apparently chosen and bursts out into laughter. “Really? Britney Spears?” 

Yuuri would be embarrassed if he wasn’t so utterly wasted. Instead, he grins and says, “What? Not a fan?” 

“No, I just… I don’t think you know what you’re getting into. This is my specialty. I’ve basically already won,” Viktor teases. 

Yuuri smirks and says, “I’d like to see you try.” And there it is again, that beautiful color of Viktor’s face. Yuuri is sure he’ll never grow tired of seeing it. 

The music starts and Yuuri picks up his own microphone. While he got sidetracked by Viktor’s presence while setting up, he tries to keep in mind why he’s really doing this. His heart is urging him to look away from the screen and just be enveloped in the warmth that Viktor is providing. But he’s not going to get this duet with Viktor ever again. At the end of the night, they’ll go their separate ways and Yuuri will watch Viktor finish his final year at university. And that will be the last Yuuri has of him. So no, he can’t just stand close and watch Viktor sing by himself. He must be a part of it. He must be a part of Viktor’s life, even if it’s only for a second.

Yuuri puts every piece of his soul into the song, all while gently brushing against Viktor. He spares a few glances to watch Viktor beside him, because really, who could resist? They stay like that for the first song, just barely touching, but watching each other all the same. They don’t even notice when the song ends, both of the captured in each other’s eyes. A small crowd forms around the TV, people at the party intrigued by the two soft voices dancing in song with each other. 

They only look away to put on another song, once again choosing any song that comes up. It doesn’t matter what or where or how they sing, just as long as it’s together. And they do. Over and over and over again, getting closer and bolder, until they’re practically entwined. It’s 3AM, and their throats are sore, cups empty, and heads fuzzy. Someone goes somewhere, they have to do something, but they’ll be right back. The party is still going strong, and all around there is shouting and a strong pulsing. Is it the music or his head? Yuuri holds his phone, limbs heavy, and dials a number. Who is he calling? He’s not really sure what’s happening anymore. Is he dreaming? Wasn’t there someone who asked him to stay here? But it’s been such a long day, and Yuuri can barely keep himself standing. 

As Phichit pulls him into his bed--when did he get back to his dorm?--he feels sick and there’s an emptiness in his heart. He hears Phichit rustling things around, and then a bucket and a glass of water are placed by his bed and Phichit’s soft hand brushes through his hair before leaving. Yuuri sinks into the soft plush of his bed and prays to hold onto his memories, although he’s not even sure what he is praying for. He just knows in his heart that he wants--needs--to remember this night. 

_ The Following Fall  _

Viktor doesn’t know how he got to be so lucky. 

He is praising all the divine beings he knows as he sits in class, face-to-face with the most handsome man he’s ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. While he’s softer and less sensual in the lights of a classroom, Viktor is absolutely sure this man is the one he met many months ago. 

Viktor had been so close to skipping class, even though it’s only the second week of the semester. In his previous years, he’d been putting off taking the required language course, since he already had to take classes on Italian, French, and German diction for vocalists. He’s never understood why foreign language is part of the curriculum, since he never needs to speak foreign languages, but rather mimic them in song. But requirements are mandatory and it’s his senior year, so Viktor finds himself enrolled in Elementary Japanese I, and feeling so very, very lucky. 

“Today I have someone I’d like you to meet. I didn’t want to bring in any guests to class last week, since the add/drop period lasted till the end of the week. This is Yuuri Katsuki and he will be your TA for the semester,” Professor Tamaki introduces. “He mostly just helps me out with grading, but if you ever have a problem or want some tutoring, Yuuri can help you out.” 

Viktor is more than ready to sign up for the earliest tutoring session possible, if it means seeing more of Yuuri Katsuki. Viktor has met his fair share of good looking guys, being in a fraternity and relatively liked around the Music Department. But something about Yuuri is different. Maybe it’s the way his eyes look bright and expressive behind those blue glasses. Or maybe it’s how his dark hair falls on his face, all fluff and accentuating the adorable roundness of his face. All Viktor knows is that he’s never felt such a strong connection to someone before. 

Things in his life had been feeling so stale and routine. Viktor would sing, people would congratulate him, he’d receive the highest praise from the staff, and then he would go out partying to try to get rid of the tightness he felt in his chest. He didn’t understand why he felt this way. His life had been relatively easy, so why did he feel so empty? He’d been ready to leave that party--even though he’d just arrived--until he bumped into Yuuri. Yuuri made him feel different. The way he teased and touched Viktor made him feel so alive. He looked drunk on life, and Viktor so desperately wanted to be a part of that. He still does. He can only hope that Yuuri feels the same, nearly 4 months later. 

Professor Tamaki teaches for the rest of the class period and Viktor doesn’t hear a word, longingly gazing at Yuuri instead. Since Yuuri does not make frequent appearances in-class, she takes advantage of his presence, having Yuuri participate in little skits with her--including props and everything. While it would probably be slightly entertaining on its own, Viktor finds himself entranced due to Yuuri’s presence. 

Before he knows it, Viktor’s classmates are packing their bags and heading out the door. Viktor shoves his notebook into his backpack and notices Yuuri deep in conversation with Professor Tamaki, both of them rapidly speaking Japanese. Viktor decides to head out of the classroom and wait for Yuuri to leave so he can make a move. 

Not even thirty seconds after he leaves, Professor Tamaki strides out of the classroom, the door swinging wide open and allowing Viktor to sneak a peek inside. Yuuri slowly packs up his things, tension released from his shoulders. Viktor places his backpack on the ground and aimlessly shuffles through his bag, pretending to be looking for something while he waits to bump into Yuuri. 

The hall is peacefully quiet unlike the music building, which is always buzzing with sounds. At all hours, the melodies of dozens of different voices and instruments can be heard, all playing in different keys and tempos. There are students playing in the practice rooms, and a few warm up in the halls, waiting for a practice room to open up. Choruses and bands rehearse ballads and symphonies; professors review private lessons with students in their offices. It’s a strange, but comforting cacophony of sound, and Viktor finds himself missing it, since he’s very rarely not in the building. 

Just as Viktor is thinking about how odd it feels to be surrounded by such perfect silence, a slight humming begins. He brings his head away from his backpack, and presses his ear to the door of his classroom. It’s faint, and not nearly as confident as before, but Viktor is whisked into the past, bringing to life memories of laughter and joy of that brilliant night. That enchanting voice is back, and Viktor is aching to sing along and just be with him. 

He has to do something, and he has to do it now. He can’t just bump into Yuuri when he leaves the classroom. No, Viktor needs a foolproof plan; something that will let him be in close proximity to Yuuri and get to know him. 

Yuuri’s voice grows a little clearer and Viktor realizes he has the perfect opportunity. He nearly kicks his bag across the hall, scrambling in his rush to open the door. As he flings it open and hurriedly runs into the room, he is sure that he must look insane. He can only hope that Yuuri will remember him and accept his proposition. 

Yuuri quickly turns towards the door, eyes wide at having been caught singing. He tries to compose himself and asks, “Can I help you with something?” 

Viktor just takes Yuuri in for a second before he stands up straight and pulls his chin up. “Yuuri Katsuki, right?” Yuuri nods. “Will you be my student?” 

Yuuri opens his mouth to speak and then closes it, clearly not expecting the question. He furrows his brows and asks, “Will I be your student? Aren’t I the TA for your Japanese class?” 

Viktor laughs and says, “Yes, sorry, I know this must sound crazy, but I’m taking a class called Voice Pedagogy and I need a student for a project. I’m looking for someone I can work with to teach them the proper vocal techniques and build up a small repertoire to perform at the end of the semester.” 

“I, uh, I don’t know…” Yuuri starts. 

“I know it sounds like a lot of work. But I could pay for lunch every day we have a lesson or do  _ something _ to make it worth your time,” Viktor nearly begs. Did he not make as good of an impression that night as he thought he had? Viktor was sure he hadn’t imagined Yuuri’s interest, but now he’s not so certain.  

“Ah, well, I mean I am pretty busy, but...are you sure I’m the person you want? I’m not exactly the best singer, and between my classes and TA-ing, well, I won’t really have much time to practice for you.” 

Viktor wonders how it’s possible for a person to lack self-awareness to such a degree. He had basically barrelled his way into the classroom because of Yuuri’s voice. He doesn’t want to scare Yuuri off with his enthusiasm, though, so he simply says, “You don’t need to be a trained singer or anything. In fact, it’s better if you’ve never been classically trained, because then your progress will really reflect my work.” 

“Oh, and if you want, we can set aside a little bit of time to go over Japanese so you can even count our hours towards TA-ing, that way you can basically be paid for doing this for me,” Viktor says with a smile. Yuuri bites his lip and furrows his brows and Viktor feels his heart flutter at the adorable expression. “If you need time to think about it…” Viktor starts, but Yuuri quickly shakes his head. 

“No, I’ll do it. I’ll be your student.”

Viktor must have been incredible in a past life in order to receive this blessed answer. “Thank you so much, Yuuri. We can start by meeting once a week, and work from there. Are you free now?” Viktor eagerly asks, his entire body buzzing with excitement. He’d never dreamed of finding Yuuri, let alone having an excuse to repeatedly see and sing with him. 

“I uh...I have class in a little less than an hour,” Yuuri says, glancing down at his watch. “We could have a short lesson, but…” 

“No, no, it’s fine. How about tomorrow then? I’m free in the afternoon.” 

“Yeah, that works.” 

“Perfect. Then meet me at the Student Union.” 

“Ok,” Yuuri says, slinging his bag on his shoulder. “I guess I’ll see you then?” 

“I can’t wait,” Viktor says with a beaming smile. Yuuri startles, looking a little taken aback, but then then offers a small smile in return before heading off to his class. 

\--

“You  _ what _ ?” Phichit gasps, nearly dropping half his sandwich on the floor. Yuuri quickly shushes him, so as to not draw attention to where they are huddled on the floor. 

“I said that Viktor Nikiforov asked me to be his student for Voice Pedagogy,” Yuuri says, picking at his own sandwich. For the past year, they tried to make their lunch-time meetings a ritual. They would take turns making lunch for each other and between classes they sat and chat about their days as they ate. Luckily, this semester they have mostly the same schedule, so they are usually able to meet before heading off to class. 

“Oh, I heard what you said. I just don’t understand how you managed to pull this off. I didn’t think Viktor knew any instrumentalists outside of his fraternity.” 

“Well about that…” Yuuri starts. 

“Yuuri,” Phichit says with a deadpanned look on his face. “What did you do?” 

“Well we weren’t in the music building, and he never asked me what I do, so I’m assuming that he thinks he asked a random student? He probably just thinks I’m a Japanese or Business major.” 

“You didn’t think about mentioning the fact that you have a background in music. That you play an instrument. That you’ve been studying music nearly your entire life.” 

“Yeah, yeah, fine. I’ll just...mention it when he starts trying to teach me how to read sheet music or something. He said he didn’t want a trained singer. He didn’t say I couldn’t have any sort of musical knowledge.” 

Phichit sticks with his look for a few seconds before giving a defeated sigh. “Oh, Yuuri… Well, at least you two will have something to bond over,” he says with a nudge. “But I still can’t believe you’re actually going to be taught by and sing with Viktor. You’ve been in love with him since you set foot on campus.” 

Yuuri blushes and shoves Phichit a bit. “He’s just a really great singer, OK?” 

“Sure, and his good looks have nothing to do with it,” Phichit laughs. 

Yuuri sighs and wipes his hands, lunch being finished. “I don’t even know why he asked me. I’m not exactly a great singer. There’s a reason why I’m an instrumentalist.” 

“Yuuri. What the hell are you saying. Whenever you’re cleaning and singing, it feels like a bunch of animals are going to invade our dorm and starting cleaning with you.” 

Yuuri rolls his eyes. “Stop being dramatic. I didn’t say I’m bad, I’m just...average. I’m not nearly as good as Viktor or any one of his fraternity friends. He could have chosen anyone, so why me?” 

“I don’t know Yuuri, but do you really want to question it? You’re gonna be taking voice lessons with  _ the _ Viktor Nikiforov. Just accept it,” Phichit says with a wink. “Now come on, we’ve gotta get to chorus. It starts in three minutes and you know that the conductor will have our heads if we’re late.” 

Yuuri smiles, shaking his head. “I don’t even know how you got me to sign up for this class. I’m not planning on being a choral conductor, and last I remember, neither were you.” 

“Yuuriii, come on. We’re juniors. Our days of marching band are in the past. We’ve gotta shake things up a bit. Take some new classes and join some new ensembles. I still think we should make that beat-boxing recorder group. I already know Leo and Guang-Hong would join us…” 

Yuuri just laughs in response, grabbing his bag and throwing away their trash. They quickly make their way down the halls of the music building, passing by some of the practice rooms. Yuuri pauses when he hears that familiar voice, drawing him in like a siren at sea. He glances inside, spying Viktor and his friend, Christophe Giacometti, practicing together. 

Chris is hunched over the piano, and Yuuri can see the difference between his playing style as an accompanist and a piano major. In the center of the stage, Chris commands the music, playing softer melodies and harsh harmonies, chords wrought with dissonance. Here, he follows Viktor’s lead and together they seamlessly create an intricate, yet soft and delicate piece. Chris’ work is a feat of its own, but in this practice room, it’s Viktor who shines. Yuuri is entranced by the way Viktor can sing with such emotion even in practice, with no audience around him. 

Chris lifts his head to glance out the window and Yuuri ducks out of view before he can be spotted by either of the men. Yuuri doesn’t want to be seen. Viktor doesn’t know who he is, and he very much wants to keep it that way. He’ll be Viktor’s student and he’ll learn more about him; but he plans on keeping a very firm line between them. Viktor doesn’t want to get to know Yuuri. He just needs a student. So Yuuri is determined to keep this boundary, and just revel in the time he gets to spend with Viktor. He tries to keep this in mind as Phichit drags him out of his reverie and off to class. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm planning on updating every two weeks, on Tuesdays. The next chapter should be up by May 30. Chapter 3 may be a little delayed, because I will be on a study abroad trip May 31-June 15. I'm going to try to start writing on planes and during breaks, but we'll see what happens. 
> 
> Also, I'm looking for someone to beta my work! My lovely friend, Laura, helped me out a lot with this chapter (as well as with some planning), but she's a very busy person. So if you're interested, please message me here or on [tumblr](https://puurricatsuki.tumblr.com/%20). 
> 
> See you in two weeks!


	2. II. andante amabile e con moto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor have a meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [6 Bagatelles, Op. 126: Presto- Andante amabile e con moto](https://youtu.be/GbQUDitgqpQ) by Ludwig van Beethoven 
> 
> andante: walking speed/moderately slow  
> amabile: amiable/pleasant  
> e con moto: and with movement

In the afternoon, the plaza in front of the Student Union is always filled with the deafening shouts of students advertising and campaigning. Today, it’s particularly crowded since the semester is still getting into swing. The grounds are littered with pop up booths from clubs trying to find new members, and school representatives urging freshmen to come to the university-sponsored welcome parties. It’s difficult for Yuuri to hear himself think, let alone listen to someone sing, so he isn’t sure why Viktor asked to meet him here. 

Yuuri glances down at his watch, fingers going through the motions of his latest performance piece. It’s uncomfortable, just standing and waiting by the entrance of the Student Union, so he might as well try to get some practice in while he can. Viktor should have been here five minutes ago, and the longer Yuuri waits, the more he begins to think that agreeing to this whole thing in the first place was a bad idea. Of course Viktor wouldn’t show up. He probably found a better student while wandering around the halls of the music building. Every student in the department is immensely talented, and Viktor is in such good favor with everyone that he could ask virtually anybody to be his student. Yuuri should just leave and go get some real practice before he embarasses himself. 

There’s a light tap on his shoulder, and Yuuri steps to the side and apologizes for blocking the entrance. “No, ah, Yuuri, it’s me. Sorry I’m late, my professor wanted to speak with me after class,” Viktor says with a sheepish smile. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long.” 

Oh. He showed up. “It’s fine, I don’t have any other classes today anyways,” Yuuri replies. They stand there, in the middle of the plaza, simply staring at each other. Yuuri is at a loss as to what else he should say, and Viktor keeps staring at him, as if he is expecting more. “So...are we having the lesson here?” 

Viktor laughs, and says, “Oh, no, definitely not. It’s much too loud to have a lesson here. There’s no way I could accurately instruct you.” 

“Then...what are we doing here?” Yuuri asks, thoroughly perplexed. What could Viktor possibly want to do with him that doesn’t involve their lesson? 

“We’re getting lunch,” Viktor responds, like it’s the obvious answer. 

“Why?” Yuuri blurts out before he can stop himself. 

“Well I can hardly ask you to sing for me before getting to know you. Singing is such a personal experience. We have to build trust first,” Viktor says, gesturing to the area, “so we’re getting lunch.” Viktor steps aside and opens the door for Yuuri. If he didn’t know any better, Yuuri would think that Viktor looks a little nervous, eyes flitting from Yuuri’s face to the door expectantly. 

Inside the Student Union, it’s quieter, although not by much. Viktor leads the way, and Yuuri follows along, fingers still fidgeting. The plan had been to not let Viktor get to know him, but that’s out the window. He doesn’t want to get too attached to Viktor, afraid of the loss he’ll feel when Viktor finally leaves him at the end of the semester. He’ll eat lunch today to pacify Viktor, but after this he’ll have to limit his exposure. They’ll meet strictly for lessons, and that’s it. No funny business whatsoever.   

The walk to the cafeteria continues in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. Yuuri doesn’t feel the need to scramble for something to say, content with simply walking side-by-side. They arrive at the cafeteria and are waiting in line to pay for their food when someone shouts Viktor’s name. They both look towards the source of the sound and spot Chris heading straight for them. 

“Hey Viktor, fancy seeing you here,” Chris says, arm slinging around Viktor’s shoulders without making any eye contact. His eyes are on Yuuri, looking him up and down curiously. “Who’s your friend here?” 

Viktor removes himself from under Chris’ arm and moves closer to Yuuri. “Yuuri Katsuki. Nice to meet you,” Yuuri says, reaching a hand out to Chris. Chris takes it, and then yanks his arm, hugging Yuuri close to his chest. Yuuri’s heart races, body frozen and mind at a loss as to what he should do. He pats Chris on the back with a stiff arm, discomfort clear on his face. 

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Yuuri. You must be Viktor’s new student, yes?” Chris whispers into his ear. He nearly shivers at having the man’s mouth so close to his ear. Then, suddenly, he’s released from Chris’ firm grasp, to his great relief. Viktor hangs an arm around Chris and a curious smile adorns his face. 

“Yeah, I am. I’m looking forward to working with Viktor.”

“Perhaps you will work with me, as well, at some point. I do play accompaniment for Viktor fairly often, so maybe you, too, will require my services,” Chris says with a wink and a suggestive look. Yuuri has heard of Chris’... _ bold _ behavior from people around the department—mainly from Michele Crispino, but he’ll complain about anyone given they get close enough to him or his sister. Yuuri himself has never been on the receiving end of Chris’ behaviour, though, and he finds that it’s startling and, oddly compelling. 

“Excuse us for one moment, Yuuri,” Viktor says, that strange smile still on his face. He grabs Chris by the shoulders and steers him firmly away from the cafeteria line. Yuuri holds onto Viktor’s food and moves forward in the line, paying for the man’s lunch when he isn’t back in time to pay for it himself. 

Yuuri is walking away from the counter with both their meals when Viktor comes strolling back into the cafeteria. “Sorry about that, Yuuri. Oh. Did you buy my lunch?” Viktor says, and opens his bag to grab his wallet. 

“Don’t worry about it, it wasn’t that much,” Yuuri says, not wanting to bother Viktor. 

“But yesterday I promised that I’d buy you lunch as a thanks for being my student, so I can’t exactly have you paying for it today,” Viktor protests, shoving a handful of money on to Yuuri’s tray. 

“It really isn’t a problem, Vikor.” 

“Well, it is to me, and I’m insisting.” 

Yuuri sighs, giving in to Viktor’s demand, and sits down at the first open table he spots. It’s in a corner by a window, and from his seat he can see some of the leaves on the trees starting to change colors. Fall is one of Yuuri’s favorite seasons. He loves be able to walk to class in a large sweater with a cup of coffee in his hand and not feel like he’s going to melt or freeze to death. “Well, thank you for buying me lunch, then.” 

Viktor simply smiles in response and joins Yuuri at the table. 

“So,” Viktor starts, popping a warm, delicious curly fry into his mouth, “what are you studying, Yuuri?” 

Yuuri drops his own fry, caught off guard by the question. Viktor gets straight to the point, doesn’t he. “What?”  

“Your major. What is it?” 

Yuuri bites his lip, unsure of how to answer. He didn’t think about how he would respond to this question. He doesn’t want Viktor to know much about him, but there’s too much of a risk in lying to Viktor. They both practically live in the music building, so they’re bound to run into each other. What would he say if Viktor caught him there? As much as he doesn’t want Viktor to know, he doesn’t have any other choice. 

“I’m a music major, too. Music Education, actually,” Yuuri mumbles. 

Viktor looks up at that, eyes lit with excitement. “Really? Wow, no wonder your singing is so good.” He pauses. “You’re not a vocalist, though, right? I’ve never seen you in any of the Voice Studios.” 

“Ah, I’m not really that good at singing. I mean, I’ve never taken lessons or anything before. The acoustics in the Japanese classroom are just nice,” Yuuri says, eyes flitting to the side. “I’m much more comfortable in an orchestra than a choir.” 

“An instrumentalist, huh? Oh! Let me guess. I’d say you look like you play the...clarinet!” Viktor says, with a brilliant smile. Yuuri could get lost in that smile. It makes him feel warm inside, like Viktor truly enjoys spending his time with Yuuri. Viktor is quite the charmer, making Yuuri feel this way without either of them knowing each other all that well. 

“No,” Yuuri says with a smile of his own, “but you’re close. It’s in the woodwind family, like the clarinet.” 

“Flute?” 

“Nope.” 

“Saxophone? Oboe? That miniature flute thing?” 

Yuuri laughs at that, and Viktor takes it as a sign that he was correct. “I was right! It is the piccolo,” he says. 

“No, definitely not the piccolo. My roommate plays the piccolo, so I think our neighbors would kill us if we both practiced it in our dorm. That high pitched screaming on its own makes me wish I didn’t have ears sometimes. I can’t imagine the two of us playing at the same time.” 

“Not a fan of the higher registers of sound, I see. That’s a shame, considering that I’m a tenor,” Viktor says. 

“Oh no, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” Yuuri panics, waving his hands. “Your voice is different. It has such a incredible quality and you absolutely do not sound like you’re screaming.” 

Viktor laughs with such force that his face turns bright red. “No worries, Yuuri, I was just teasing.” His eyes sparkle with mischief. “Although I would love to hear more about how great my voice is.” 

Yuuri’s hands fly to his face, not knowing how he let this happen. Talking with Viktor is so easy, that all his barriers crumbled just enough to let a piece of himself show through. He has to be more vigilant so that he doesn’t make a fool out of himself. 

Evading the topic altogether, Yuuri says, “You still haven’t guessed what instrument I play.” 

“Well you don’t like high notes, so I’m assuming the bagpipes is out of the question…” 

“I don’t think you can even choose the bagpipes as your primary instrument.” 

“You won’t know until you try, Yuuri. Become the school’s first bagpipe specialist.” 

Yuuri grins, “But those high notes, remember?” 

“You’re right. I guess it’s just not meant to be. So then that leaves us with...the bassoon?” Viktor asks, eyebrows scrunched together in the most adorable way. 

Yuuri nods, trying to keep from smiling—and failing. “Although you weren’t totally incorrect with your first guess. I did used to play the clarinet, so I suppose you win some points for that guess.” 

“I knew you looked like a clarinet player,” Viktor says, looking quite smug. “Why did you stop playing it?” 

“For no special reason, really. There were too many clarinets in band one year, so my teacher asked one of us to switch instruments. He needed someone to play the bassoon, and I was too soft spoken of a kid to refuse anything the teacher asked. So I got stuck with the bassoon,” Yuuri says. “But I ended up loving the bassoon much more than the clarinet, so it all worked out in the end.” 

“That’s good. Music is such an emotional experience. It’d be a shame if you didn’t like the bassoon. I think that you have to have a deep connection with your instrument in order to play well. If there’s no love for it, your music will reflect as such.” 

Yuuri raises an eyebrow at that. “Wow, you really do love yourself a lot then.”  

Viktor startles, looking mildly offended, and Yuuri panics for a second. “No, I meant—” 

“Oh!” Viktor laughs, “I am my own instrument, aren’t I?” 

Yuuri’s laugh is breathy, body shaking with the adrenaline of his panic. Their laughs fade away and they both resume their previous comfortable silence. For a minute, they simply sit there eating their lunch, not needing any words. The sounds of the cafeteria still surround them, but it’s all slightly muted, like they’re on their own private island. 

“Since you love yourself so much,” Yuuri says, trying to grin, but still slightly shaking, “tell me more. How did you become a vocalist?” 

Viktor puts a finger to his chin, pausing to think about the question. “Well I suppose I was not too different from you. I wasn’t really given a choice about it. My father was a Russian opera singer, and when we moved here, he became a vocal coach and professor. It was just expected of me to take up singing.” 

“Oh. Then I guess the better question is why do you still sing?” 

Viktor’s smile lights up at that. “It’s my favorite thing to do. Music and singing have been a part of my life for so long, that it’s the first thing I want to do when I wake up in the morning. It’s habitual at this point to practice daily, and it’s comforting. I’m sure the same goes for you?” 

Yuuri nods. “Definitely. Playing music lets you work through your emotions in a way other things can’t. I, uh… I’m not always the most comfortable performing in front of others, but I don't think I could ever stop playing.” 

“Is that why you want to be an educator?” 

“Mm. Music class is where I was first introduced to this whole world of music, and I want to be able to reach kids who need it, just like I did.” 

“That’s a beautiful reason to teach, Yuuri.” 

_ Bzt.  _

His phone vibrates his already bouncing leg, and Yuuri glances down at it to see who it’s from, but he doesn’t want to disrupt his conversation with Viktor. 

“It’s wonderful to be able touch people with your performances, but sometimes just performing isn’t enough.”

_ Bzt bzt.  _

“That’s why I’m not just a performance major, but a composition major as well. Being an educator, or surprising people with new and innovative compositions—there’s a rush you get from those things that can’t be found in performance alone.”

_ Bzt bzt bzt.  _

Viktor pauses. “Are you going to get that?” He doesn’t look annoyed, but Yuuri’s face heats up anyways, embarrassment coursing through his body. He doesn’t want to be rude, and cutting Viktor off mid-conversation is definitely rude. He can’t lose having lessons with Viktor because of a stupid text. He’ll have to remember to silence his phone, next time. 

“I’m so sorry, it’s just my roommate.” He snatches his phone from his pocket, desperate to look anywhere but at Viktor’s face. 

_ 6 new messages from phiccolo  _

**phiccolo:** are u with viktor yet 

**phiccolo:** how is he 

**phiccolo:** is he even better looking when ur only five feet apart 

**phiccolo:** oh my god i see u guys 

**phiccolo:** _1 image attached_

**phiccolo:** so when’s the marriage 

Yuuri looks away from his phone, eyes wide and searching. He spots Phichit, sitting all the way across the room, conspicuously sitting at a table by himself with his phone propped up in his hand. Knowing his roommate, Phichit’s probably posted half a million photos to his snapchat already. Yuuri winces at that, and mentally notes to steal Phichit’s phone when he’s sleeping so he can delete any other evidence. 

“Is everything okay?” Viktor asks, face drawn with concern. 

“Yeah, my roommate just…uh…locked himself out of our dorm again.” 

“Oh.” Viktor’s face falls a bit. “Do you need to go, then? We can always just meet early for our first lesson.” 

“No, no!” Yuuri practically shouts. He holds on to his legs, needing the touch to feel grounded. “It’s fine. He can probably ask the resident assistant to let him in. It shouldn’t be a problem. Let me text him to make sure everything’s fine.” 

“Alright. If you’re sure.” 

Yuuri grabs his phone from where he left it on the table and opens up his messages. He spots a few unread texts from his parents. He must have missed them in the rush to get to class in the morning, but he’ll have to answer them later. 

**b(ass)oon:** why 

**phiccolo:** ;) u will thank me later 

**phiccolo:** at ur wedding 

**b(ass)oon:** i don’t know why i live with you

**phiccolo:** bc u can’t live without me  <3 

**b(ass)oon:** ….

**b(ass)oon:** yeah, yeah 

Across the dining hall, Phichit makes a heart with his hands. Yuuri tries not to smile, not wanting to alert Viktor to Phichit’s presence. He doesn’t think he could handle them meeting just quite yet. Viktor is distracted by his own phone, but his eyes dart up when Yuuri’s gaze lingers on him. 

Viktor looks so painfully normal like this. The way he sits at the table, posture slightly slouched, chin resting in his palm as he scrolls through his phone. It’s unusual for Yuuri to see him in such a way. He’s been pretty much limited to seeing Viktor at performances, and whether they be at cathedrals, theatre stages, or simply the rehearsal hall on campus, Viktor always manages to look perfectly coiffed and sharp. Yuuri’s never seen him look so human and average before. He prefers this to the air Viktor usually puts on. He’s certainly much more approachable this way. But he also seems more relaxed like this, not needing to put any effort into keeping up a certain image. 

“Are you ready to go?” Viktor asks, cutting into Yuuri’s train of thought. 

“Yeah, sure,” Yuuri mindlessly replies. “Wait. Where are we going?” 

“Sorry, did I forget to mention it beforehand? Sometimes I can really be a bit forgetful,” Viktor says with an apologetic smile. “I scheduled an appointment with the professor for Voice Pedagogy. He wants to meet all the students before we start working on the lessons, that way he has a starting point he can evaluate your progress from.” Yuuri’s heart begins to pound and his palms sweat at the thought of performing right now, in front of a professor he doesn’t know. 

Viktor senses his apprehension and he rushes to ease some of it, saying, “Don’t worry. It’s just standard stuff. He’ll ask you some questions on your background with music, and maybe have you sing a few scales with him. Professor Yakov really is more intimidating looking than he actually is.” 

“Professor Yakov? Wait isn’t that…” 

“My father? Yeah, so I’m sorry if he comes across harsh at first. He always gets so mad at me for the littlest things,” Viktor laughs, grabbing at his neck in embarrassment. 

“Wait—Professor Yakov is your father?” Yuuri gawks, completely baffled at the revelation. “I just thought he was your advisor! Your father is the head of the Voice Studio?” 

“Oh, sorry. Did you not know? So many people asked me about it my first couple years here, I assumed everyone in the department knew by this point. But it’s really not a big deal. I’m the one being graded, so he shouldn’t be too critical of you.”

Yuuri already wasn’t too keen on the idea of meeting Professor Yakov on such short notice, and now that he knows that he’s also Viktor’s father, he wants to go even less. But it’s not like he has much of a choice. He promised Viktor he would be his student, and if this is one of the duties it entails, then he’ll do it with a smile plastered onto his face. 

“Alright then, well…let’s go.” 

He grabs his bag to head over to the music building, but knocks his phone to the ground in the process. Viktor reaches down to grab it, pausing to look at the phone before carefully placing it back in Yuuri’s palm. 

“Do you like dogs? I have a dog that looks just like the one on your phone case,” Viktor says, causing Yuuri to glance down at the blue pattern of poodle puppies on the back of his phone. “She’s a large dog, though, and always demanding my attention—especially when I’m trying to practice.”

Yuuri smiles at that, remembering the days when his own Vicchan had ceaselessly pawed at his legs while he practiced playing the bassoon. When he was starting out with the bassoon, Yuuri would sit on the floor in front of the mirror with Vicchan curled in his lap as he tried to get the embouchure right. When he got too frustrated with himself for not being able to make the mouth shape needed to produce sound, Vicchan would lick his face until he was smiling again. 

“I have a pet poodle, too, but he never got to be a big dog. He loved to bother me during practice time, as well. It’s funny how they’ll beg for attention when you’re busy and the second you’re done, they’re off to do something else.” 

“Yes! It’s the worst. They want to love you when it’s most inconvenient.” 

They leave the cafeteria, and Yuuri sends a small wave Phichit’s way before looking back over at Viktor. “I wish I could see my dog during the school year. I only go home for the big breaks, so I don’t get to see him too often.” 

“Well then, I guess we’ll just have to have a lesson at my house sometime,” Viktor says. “That way you can practice and be bothered by a dog as much as you want.” 

“Thank you, Viktor,” Yuuri says, his chest swelling. He isn’t sure how to tell Viktor how much it means to him without making it weird, so he leaves it at that. But the gesture means so very, very much to Yuuri. 

They arrive at Yakov’s office when classes are getting out, and it’s the late afternoon, so most of the students head home or upstairs to the practice rooms. Even so early in the semester, people rush to get to the rooms so that they can practice until they don’t miss a single note. 

Viktor knocks on the door of Yakov’s office, but doesn’t wait for a response. He swings the door open and strolls into the office like he lives there—which probably isn’t too far from the truth, considering how often Yuuri can be found sleeping in the practice rooms overnight. Yuuri hovers in the doorway, barely peeking into the room, and cringes when he sees the cold stare that Yakov gives Viktor. 

The office isn’t too small—there’s just enough room for a desk and a small couch, and cabinets line the wall by Yakov’s desk. There’s a wall-length mirror on the wall across from the couch, allowing students to take note of their posture while they sing. Yuuri is used to playing in front of a mirror, but in this setting it’s intimidating, considering he doesn’t have a clue as to what he’s doing. 

“Vitya. You’re late,” Yakov’s rough voice betraying the image of an operatic musician. 

“Sorry, sorry, I got distracted at lunch. You weren’t planning on leaving early, though, so I figured it’d be all fine. Right, Yakov?” Viktor says. 

Yakov pointedly ignores him, and turns to face Yuuri, who is still only halfway through the door. “You must be Vitya’s student, Katsuki, yes?” Yuuri jumps in his place and nods, not wanting to make a poor first impression. 

“Come. Take a seat. I just need to evaluate you before you start lessons with Vitya.” 

Yuuri moves into the room, gently shutting the door behind him before sitting down next to Viktor on the couch. Yuuri sits up straight, sitting on the edge of the couch and trying to make his posture look impeccable. Meanwhile, Viktor is sprawled out, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. His body is slumped into the comfortable cushions and he looks like he’s dead asleep, despite having just walked into the room. Yuuri so badly wishes he could curl up and sit there with him. 

“Name, year, and music experience,” Yakov says, getting right to the point. So that’s where Viktor gets it from.  

“Yuuri Katsuki, junior, and I’ve been an instrumentalist for, uh, around 14 years?” 

Yakov nods, jotting the information down. “Are you a music major, then? What’s your primary instrument?” 

“Yes. Music Education. And the bassoon.” 

“Okay. Take this and sing lines four, five, and six.” Yakov hands him a paper with staves of numbered music. Sight reading. He should have assumed that this was coming. He takes a couple deep breaths, trying to slow his racing heartbeat, and reads the music, audiating it as best he can. The melodies aren’t too intricate, so sounding out the notes in his head is easier than usual, but it’s still a difficult task, and even more so under pressure.  

Viktor cracks an eye open and says, “You’re not going to play the key for him? That’s unusually hard of you, even for me.” 

Yakov huffs in response and opens a cabinet, pulling out a small keyboard. He plays a chord and then each note separately. Yuuri breathes deeply and begins. The first line is a minor scale, but not a particularly difficult one. He takes his time going through the notes, not wanting to mix up any of the sounds. The second and third lines are a little more complex, since they’re not scales, but random melodies. However, they’re both within Yuuri’s capabilities and he works through them with little trouble. Yakov is uncanny in pinpointing a student’s exact experience level. 

He takes the sheet back after Yuuri finishes, and then discusses lesson plans with Viktor. Yuuri zones out, tired after a long day, but he hears Yakov mention exercise books, literature, and videos that Viktor should use with Yuuri. He then sends them on their way, clearly wanting to get back to work. He can always discuss things at more length with Viktor at any other time, given they live in the same house. 

“Bye, Yakov. See you later,” Viktor says, eagerly reaching for the door. 

“Will I? Or are you going to sleep here like you’ve been doing practically all week,” Yakov says, frustration seeping into his voice. 

“Maybe.” Viktor innocently smiles and takes his leave, Yuuri following after him.

Viktor pauses outside of Yakov’s office and checks the time. “Yuuri, if you’re not busy, could I take you to one last place? There’s something I’d like to show you.” Viktor’s voice sounds slightly off, each word delicately said. 

“Sure. Where to next?” 

“Upstairs. I hope we don’t have to wait too long for a practice room.” 

They make their way upstairs and peek through the windows of the rooms until they manage to find an empty one. Yuuri spots Sara Crispino and Mila Babicheva practicing a  [ duet ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxpC0csnwic) for the flute and the french horn and waves at them when they catch him looking in. Yuuri doesn’t know Mila too well, but he’s friendly with Sara since Phichit plays both piccolo and flute, depending on what the band needs. 

“Empty!” Viktor shouts from down the hall. He waves over to Yuuri and says, “Yuuri, come! I’ve found one.”  

The second Yuuri steps into the room, Viktor sits at the piano. The room is small, like most of the practice rooms, and it’s crowded with music stands. One of the jazz quartets must have been using the room. The upright piano stands against the wall, the once beautiful wood finish now dull and scratched from years of use. Even so, Viktor delicately lifts the fallboard protecting the keys, trying his best to keep the piano in working condition. 

Yuuri sits down as well, in a chair in the corner of the room, and scoots it closer to the piano to get a better view of Viktor. Viktor digs through his bag, face scrunched as he searches for something. Frustrated, he pulls papers and books out of his bag, dropping them to the floor without any care. 

With a shout, he finally pulls out a small notebook and places it on the music rack. Yuuri moves his chair closer again, the size of the notebook making it difficult to see the contents, even with his glasses on. Viktor notices him struggling and moves to one side of the piano bench, patting the empty space. 

“Come, I want to show you what I’ve been working on.” 

Yuuri hesitates, but gets up anyways and joins Viktor at the piano. The notebook has blank staves printed onto the pages, and there are small notations scribbled onto them. Viktor’s handwriting is nearly impossible to decipher, but Yuuri’s pretty sure that there are lyrics written below each staff of what appears to be a melody. 

“I have the lyrics translated in English on my phone if you want to see them later. I had to work with Professor Celestino in order to translate the piece, but...this is what I’ve been working on for my composition project.” Viktor’s eyes are firmly directed at the keyboard, and his hands flutter just above the keys. He looks up then, straight into Yuuri’s eyes and says, “I’d like to know what you think about it, okay?” 

His hands hover over the keys once more and then he begins. The piano starts softly, Viktor’s fingers just barely pressing the keys. It begins slow and somber, like many arias, and Yuuri can feel the time and passion put into the creation of it. When his voice joins in, it moves smoothly through the notes, elongating words and accenting stress. Yuuri can’t understand the Italian lyrics, but he can guess at the subject matter of the song. Viktor’s voice is melancholic and full of yearning. He is chasing after someone, and the only way he has of reaching them is through this song. 

Yuuri is struck by the emotion in Viktor’s voice. He’s seen him perform countless times, but never has Viktor looked this vulnerable. His hands move unconsciously through the notes and chords, not needing the sheet music that lies in front of him. His head faces the papers anyways, pretending to read the music, but his eyes betray him. Viktor is clearly not reading the notes, but is lost in the music, searching for this one thing that he needs but cannot find. 

The chorus brings him out of his trance, hands flying over the keys and forcefully pressing them down and bringing to life chords that tell the story of a tragic hero. Each breath Viktor takes sounds desperate, the stress of belting the melody and playing the accompaniment in unison taking its toll. But even so, the desperation of his breathing adds to the passion of the hero in the song as he fights for each breath and lives for each moment. 

Viktor holds the last note, voice never faltering or losing pitch as he fades away and bangs out the final chords with such power that Yuuri is worried for the piano. Viktor brushes over the keys, softly playing a quick scale before he finally comes to a stop and turns to face Yuuri.

“So,” Viktor says, somehow sounding both hesitant and eager at the same time. “what did you think? Do you like it?” 

Yuuri is speechless. “Did I like it?” he asks. “Viktor—that was incredible! It sounds like it belongs in an opera. Do you have a title for it yet?” 

“Yes, I do. It’s called  _ Stammi vicino, Non te ne andare _ , or  _ Stay Close to Me _ ,” Viktor says, his eyes and smile both shining. He doesn’t look like he just poured his heart and soul out in front of Yuuri. There’s not a trace of the melancholy that was etched into his face just minutes ago. He’s back to the normal, always smiling Viktor. It shows Yuuri how talented a performer Viktor truly is. 

“Wow. That was just… I don’t even know what to say, Viktor.” 

“You don’t have to say anything. But I do have something to ask of you, Yuuri.” 

“Okay.”

“I’d like you to perform this aria for me—for the class, I mean. I’d really like it if you could sing this piece for the in-class performance.” 

“What?” Yuuri asks. “But why? I mean, you’ve worked so hard to compose it yourself, why… why do you want me to sing it?” 

Viktor frowns. “Well that’s just the thing. I composed it myself, I brought it up from nothing, but that puts me too close to it. I don’t think I could ever be satisfied with a performance if I did it myself, because it’s just not surprising enough. I know exactly how I want it to be heard, and I perform it that way. It’s predictable.” 

“But you, Yuuri. You have the freedom to view this piece in a whole new light. You have potential to turn this aria into a masterpiece.” 

A  _ masterpiece _ . Yuuri’s dead, isn’t he. Or it’s all a dream? Whatever this is, it definitely cannot be real. He can’t sing a masterpiece—he can’t sing, period. Why would Viktor ever give Yuuri so much power over his composition? 

“Viktor, I don’t know… I really don’t think I can do your song justice. I’m a bassoonist. Sure, that might help me with the breathing aspects of singing, but I don’t know how to belt notes like you do. How am I supposed to—” 

“That’s why I’m going to teach you. You haven’t forgotten, have you?” Viktor teases. 

“Yeah, but Viktor—” 

“If the only reason why you don’t want to do it is because you think it’s too difficult, then I’ll respect that. But Yuuri, please trust me on this. I know we don’t know each other well yet, but I promise you that we can do this.” 

Yuuri stares hard at Viktor, thinking about the choice in front of him. Viktor is right. Yuuri needs to have more faith in him. If he fights Viktor every step of the way, they’re never going to accomplish anything. The last thing Yuuri wants is for Viktor to resent having him as a student. So if it means the walls he’s tried to put up need to come down, then so be it. Yuuri will do absolutely everything he can to ensure that Viktor succeeds, even if it means performing Viktor’s own composition.

“Okay. Let’s do it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray, early update! I didn't play as much of the new fire emblem game as I wanted to so I could get this out for y'all <3 Hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> This means more time for me to work on the third chapter before my trip! I do have quite a bit of packing and shopping to do to get ready, so we'll see how much I can get done before I leave. But worst case scenario, I should be able to post the third chapter while I am abroad. I'm going to have a roughly 12-13 hour time difference, though, so my apologies. 
> 
> I'm looking forward to getting more into the story! I think Yurio might make an appearance in the next chapter and Phichit will definitely be back. In the mean time, please come scream with me about yuri on ice, music, and cats on [tumblr](https://puurricatsuki.tumblr.com/%20) as I try to juggle packing and writing this week.
> 
> See you all soon :)


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